


Crossing the Line

by gmariam19 (gmariam)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Captured by the First Order, Eventual Poe Dameron/Finn, First Kiss, Injured Poe Dameron, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Poe Dameron, Pining Poe Dameron, Poe's past, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Rescue Missions, injured Finn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam19
Summary: When Finn is captured on a mission to Formos, Poe will do anything to get him back.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 39
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

Part One

Poe should have known that coming back to Formos was a mistake. It's been well over a decade since he's been there, but he can still feel the negative energy the moment he steps off the small freighter now berthed in a shabby docking bay. He'd been reluctant to take the assignment and had been honest with Leia about his past and why someone else should make the exchange. And while Leia had been understanding, she'd also been clear: he had the experience, he knew the area, and most importantly, he was the one the contact wanted to meet on Formos.

It still screams 'bad idea' to him, even worse because he's with Finn, one of the last people he wants to know about his past. Poe's been unusually anxious the entire trip and he knows Finn's picked up on it, but he can't help it. He's already tired and overworked, and their last few missions have been more challenging than usual. His skin practically crawls as they head into the streets of the run-down spaceport where they're meeting an old smuggler for information. Poe keeps his head down and his hand on his blaster; beside him, Finn is similarly on edge.

"And I thought Ord Mantell was sketchy," he murmurs, and Poe huffs a silent laugh, taking Finn's elbow and guiding him through the dark and dirty streets, crowded with pilots and other spacers, gamblers and hookers and even a bounty hunter Poe recognizes and turns away from before they're seen.

"Wait 'till you see Mos Eisley," he says. "or Junkfort Station, or—"

"Yeah, yeah," Finn grumbles. "That's what I joined the Resistance for, a tour of the galaxy's underbelly."

This time Poe laughs out loud. "How about when this is all over we try someplace nice? Chandrila, or Naboo, or we could go back to Coronet City." The words have left his mouth before he realizes what he's suggesting, and he hopes Finn doesn't take it the wrong way. Or maybe he'll take it exactly as Poe means it and they can stop dancing around this thing between them. The problem is, Poe's pretty sure he's the only one who feels it most of the time.

"Crash another party, steal some more ships, and get chased out?" Finn asks with a grin. It was months ago, but it was also one of their first missions together, and they both remember it fondly, if Finn's teasing is anything to go by. It also means he's not reading anything into Poe's suggestion; Poe is both relieved and disappointed. It's not the first time he's thought about getting away from it all—and taking Finn with him. He thinks about it far too often on long trips alone in his X-wing.

"There are worse ways to spend a vacation," Poe offers.

"Yeah, well, I have a bad feeling about this one," Finn returns. Poe nods in agreement; he's had a bad feeling since they left Ajan Kloss.

He motions to the right, directing them toward the shady cantina where Cor Raife is meeting them. Poe had been shocked when the Resistance received a message from the old Keshian smuggler, offering hard-core intel on the shipyards the First Order had taken over at Fondor. And not just good information, but actual codes to get in, to get ships and fuel. The Resistance has people, but they need more ships. They've only lifted a dozen more since Bracca and have twice as many pilots waiting to fly. If they can get into Fondor, they'll be set.

Raife had sent coordinates for a sordid smuggler's hangout in the seediest spaceport on Formos. Poe knows Formos, had been there many times in his youth while running spice. Nothing ever changes in places like Formos, so he knows his way around and is able to guide them straight to the Twisted Neck without getting lost. Even the Rodian behind the bar is still working there, though his green skin is more grey now. His pupil-less eyes widen when he sees Poe, who holds up a finger to his lips and flips him a credit chip.

He can feel Finn eyeing him sideways. They've been on enough missions together over the last year that Poe wishes Finn would stop being surprised at things like this. Especially when Poe has no intention of ever talking about his past experience with such things. Finn might have been forced to grow up as a Stormtrooper, but Poe made his bad choices all on his own. He moved on a long time ago, and yet at times—like now—the guilt and shame still threaten to ruin all he's done since. And considering how he feels about Finn, he'd be devastated if the other man ever found out about his past.

"So how many times have you been here?" Finn murmurs, ruining Poe's hopes of the subject not coming up. "And why, exactly? This doesn't seem like a particularly friendly place for the New Republic Navy."

"It was before I joined," Poe answers, and leaves it at that, ignoring Finn's curious look. "All right, I'm supposed to meet Raife downstairs in one of the fighting parlors. Alone."

"I still don't like it," Finn says. "You shouldn't go down there by yourself."

"He'll know if I bring anyone with me," Poe replies. "It's not ideal, but it's a quick handoff, and I've got my comms and weapons. You can sit at the bar and keep a close eye on anyone else heading downstairs. Three pips if they look suspicious."

"And what if the suspicious ones are already down there waiting for you?"

"Then it's two pips for backup," Poe tells him. They stop at the bar and order two mugs of spicebrew. Poe has never particularly liked it, but he drinks half in one go, hoping to bolster his nerves; he's still worried he'll run into someone who will give him up. He could probably talk his way out of it, but he'd rather avoid it entirely and dodge any past entanglements. He claps Finn on the shoulder and heads toward the back, where a Gamorrean bouncer waves him downstairs with a grunt.

If Finn thought the upstairs of the Twisted Neck was bad, he'd be positively repulsed by the dank underground. Having been there before, Poe is not surprised that it hasn't changed, though he is still disgusted, and incredibly glad he's left that life behind. There are rooms for sabaac, for spice, for sex, and more, most of which he's tried. Poe heads to the last room on the right, the one used for underground fighting. Not a pastime he cares for—the fighting or the betting. If he's going to gamble, he'd rather be in charge of his own cards, not rely on anonymous fighters paid to win or lose. Still, to each their own, and it's a decent meeting place for less than honest exchanges.

He hands over the entrance credit and places a bet, then spots Cor Raife sitting in the stands, watching the match in the center of the room. He looks older than Poe remembers him, but Poe probably does as well. The smuggler's large eyes are still bright with shrewd intelligence, but his hair is grey and there is a new scar on Raife's face that twists in the dim light as he shouts at the fighters. The room is small and dark and loud, filled with the scent of blood and sweat and maybe worse. Poe hopes this is quick. How did he ever live this life?

Sitting down behind Raife, Poe leans forward and shouts mindless encouragement toward the violent fight in the center of the room, though he's not even sure which fighter he bet on. Raife doesn't bother to look at him.

"Welcome back, Dameron," he says. "Didn't think I'd ever see you around these parts again."

"Didn't think I'd head back to these parts again," Poe returns. "You're looking the same as always."

Cor snorts. "I look old, and so do you. You don't need to flatter me for the chip, kid. I just want my credits."

"And I just want my intel. It better be what you promised, Raife."

"I may be a smuggler, but I still have a reputation to protect. I'm not selling bad information, even to the Resistance. This will get you in and get you what you want. Credits, please."

Raife stretches, holding a hand out behind his back, and Poe reluctantly drops a credit chip in it, eyes still on the fight in the ring below: a Twi'lek and a Zabrak, stripped to the waist and battling it out with bare fists. The crowd explodes when the Zabrak gets in a hard hit to the Twi'lek's jaw, sending the other fighter stumbling backward. Poe thinks he bet on the Twi'lek.

"Data chip, please," he murmurs over Raife's head. He tosses it behind him to land at Poe's feet, and he quickly covers it with his boot. The Twi'lek in the ring takes another hit and falls to his knees; the Zabrak kicks him in the head—anything goes in these matches—and the Twi'lek drops to the ground, unconscious or possibly dead. The crowd erupts, so loud that Poe almost misses the message on his comm: three quick pips, which means something is happening upstairs.

"Pleasure doing business with you again, Raife, but I gotta go," Poe murmurs as he leans over to grab the chip. He starts down the stands toward the door, but the crowd is up now, moving and cheering, credits changing hands, and it's hard to get out. Especially when he's grabbed by a blue-skinned Pantoran who looks vaguely familiar.

"Pol?" she cries, grabbing his arm and running her other hand down his chest. "Pol Devlin?"

"No, sorry, wrong guy," Poe shouts back, though he's pretty sure he knows her from his past—she certainly knows his spice running alias. Fortunately, she's as high as a kite, so he's able to wrestle his arm back after a few tries and push his way toward the door. There's been no more pips on his comm, but the bad feeling he's had since they landed is only getting worse; it's taking him too long to get upstairs as a large Hutt leaves the fight with his entourage.

Poe pushes his way through the crowd and past the Hutt, dashing upstairs as fast as he can, only to find the cantina in chaos: everyone is running around and shouting, there are punches being thrown, glasses flying, chairs crashing, and an occasional blaster bolt. He's seen enough bar fights to know a good one. Glancing around, Poe tries to find Finn in the mess, and his heart stutters in his chest.

Finn is nowhere to be seen.

Poe hurries to the bar, dodging several chairs and throwing a few punches. He takes a hard hit in the face and lashes out at the Morellian who clocked him, massaging his jaw as he continues. The Rodian who tends the bar is cowering behind it. "Where is he?" Poe roars over the noise, certain that the bartender will know exactly who he's talking about. The Rodian glares at him.

"They got him," Reeke tells him in accented Basic. "First Order Security Bureau. He never had a chance."

"He's former First Order," Poe snaps. "What do you mean, he never had a chance?"

"Tranq dart," the Rodian tells him. "He managed to start this mess before he collapsed and they took him."

Poe swears, scans the fight swirling around him and ducks a bottle of Corellian whiskey thrown their direction. There is definitely no sign of the First Order or Finn. He has to find them, before they hurt Finn. He jumps over the bar and grabs the Rodian by the neck of his jacket. "All right, Reeke, talk: what is the FOSB doing here and where did they go?"

"I don't know!" the Rodian squeals. "They're probably here for the same reason you are."

"You know why I'm here?"

"I know Raife's selling something valuable. And then both the Resistance and the First Order show up at the same time?" He pushes Poe away from him. "Of course they want it, too. I should turn you in and claim the reward."

Poe levels his blaster at the Rodian's head. "You do, and I might let slip where all those missing crates of black spice end up." He's sure the Rodian is still skimming from the look of panic in his wide eyes.

"Fuck off, Dameron," the Rodian hisses. "Get out of my bar."

"I need weapons. Whatever you've got."

"You're going after him?" Reeke exclaims. "Are you insane? You can't get one man out alone. No one's worth that."

"He is." He's worth everything, and Poe will do anything to get Finn back safe. He slaps a credit chip in the Rodian's hands.

"Two hundred—I need weapons and information. How many were there and where will they take him?"

Reeke stares at the chip. "I'm dead if anyone finds out I helped you."

Poe flexes his finger on the trigger of his blaster and presses it against the Rodian's forehead, hating the empty threat but making it anyway because he knows it will work. "You're dead if you don't, because you know who I am. Take the money, tell me what I need to know, and I'll let you live."

The Rodian swears under his breath, reaches under the bar and starts pulling out weapons—an illegal blaster pistol, two vibroknives, and half a dozen concussion grenades. Poe raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? Grenades in a bar?"

"I've had to use them," the Rodian says. "If they don't take your man straight back to their ship, they'll take him to their safe house to work him over so they can get to you. There're at least four agents, maybe more. They've been snooping around for the last month, and they've taken over one of the bigger places on the edge of town. Leader is a fiery bitch with red hair." He tells Poe the address, which makes him wonder.

"How do you know exactly where this place is? They're usually a lot better about staying under the radar."

The Rodian shrugs. "I run a cantina in a smuggler's spaceport. Bartenders know everything."

"Why have they been hanging around?" Poe asks as he tucks the blaster, knives, and grenades wherever he can stash them. "What do they want on Formos?"

"Information, mostly. We sell a lot of it here now—good place to hide, after all. You remember, don't you?"

Poe glares at him. "I remember—and I moved on. You should think about it, Reeke. If the FOSB is here, the rest of the First Order is probably not far behind."

The Rodian shrugs. "What do I care if they are? Places like this—they always leave us alone, because they need us."

Poe walks away. The bar fight is settling down, and half the cantina is back in their chairs, as if nothing had happened; the other half is unconscious on the sticky floor.

"Hope that works out for you," he calls to the Rodian as he leaves. He hurries out to the street, his nerves on fire: he has to find Finn and get him out before they do anything to him—torture, or even worse, reconditioning. Poe doesn't know what he would do if Finn were forced back into the First Order. He cares far too much about the other man to lose him now.

And then they both need to get away from Formos before any more First Order agents show up. They're clearly tracking down the same intel Poe just spent a sinful number of credits to buy for the Resistance. That's what the security bureau does: intelligence work, information retrieval, much of it unofficial and under the table. Poe's run into them before, and it's always a bad time. The intel he paid dearly for is too important to give up.

Taking a deep breath to calm the rush of fear racing through his veins, Poe glances around and sees a few locals giving him funny looks. He turns and hurries toward the docking bays as fast as he can without looking suspicious, hoping he can find Finn there and not have to spring him from a safe house. He's not sure what the First Order is flying, but a quick flip of a chip to a maintenance worker tells him their freighter is still planetside. They haven't returned yet, which means they've probably taken Finn to their safe house.

Poe wishes BB-8 were there, but he's almost as recognizable as Poe is now, so he'd let the droid stay behind with Rey. He's on his own, with no way to get a message out and no time to wait for help anyway. He needs to get to Finn and get them off Formos before the First Order has them both—and the data chip he's carrying.

Poe hotwires the nearest speeder bike and sets off for the safe house, determined to rescue his friend, no matter the cost.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the timeline somewhat: whereas Poe originally mentioned in the first chapter that he had been working with Finn for six months, it's closer to a year.

Part Two

The house the Rodian sends him to is in on the edge of town in an area Poe's not familiar with, backing up to the forest surrounding the small settlement. Poe finds a pair of macrobinoculars on the stolen bike and studies the area. The house itself is set down a short dirt road. It's a two-story building in a mix of styles—if he had to guess, some rich, retired smuggler had built it without a plan, throwing together a hodgepodge of whatever they liked and could find.

There is a speeder parked in front, and two guards in Stormtrooper armor at the door. Kriff, he was really hoping they wouldn't run into troopers this far in the Outer Rim. He wishes he could see how many are inside; hell, he wishes he knew whether this was where Finn was definitely being held. He'd hate to storm the place only to find out he missed them at the docking bay and Finn is six systems away already.

He scouts out the rest of the house, finding two more guards at the back, one of them with his helmet in his hand, smoking spice. The other trooper is watching with a look of both disapproval and envy.

"You shouldn't be doing that now," says the one without the spice. "We've got an important prisoner, you know."

"He's nothing but a traitor," says the other. "Resistance scum."

Poe grins to himself; they've got Finn, and he'd be proud of the label.

"Put it out, the other one could show up and you don't want to be high, do you?"

The guard with the spice sighs, but drops what's left and puts his helmet on.

Poe watches the house, tries to imagine the layout, to estimate how many are inside, to guess where Finn might be held. He knows there are at least four agents, and probably more troopers inside. He's got three blasters, two vibroknives, the grenades and his fists. He makes a loose plan, but Reeke was right: he shouldn't be doing this alone. The problem is that he doesn't have time to either call for help or hire it out—if he could even manage to find someone willing to go up against the First Order on Formos. He needs to do this, and he needs to do it fast.

He's not sure if they've got any tech watching, so sneaking up seems pointless. Taking a deep breath and focusing on the mission—find Finn—he lobs a grenade at the guards in the back, waits until the sonic blast barely settles, then runs up to the door, stopping beside it. As he expected, two more troopers come out to investigate, and Poe stuns them with his blaster before stepping silently inside.

He's in a dusty, unused kitchen of some sort. Ducking low, he carefully makes his way toward the front of the dark house. An agent in black steps up out of the shadows, catching him hard on the chin with the butt of his blaster. Poe stumbles back as the man presses forward and knocks his weapon away. Poe holds up his hands.

"We thought about going back for you, but we knew you'd come to us first," the man sneers, his blaster pointed at Poe's chest.

"You called it," he says, lowering his hands. "Must be why you're not a buckethead."

"Hands back up," the man barks, blaster still raised. He lifts his other arm to call for the others, but before he can speak, Poe reaches out with both hands to grab the man's gun and twists hard. It's unexpected, and Poe moves out of the way fast enough that the man can't get off a good shot. The bolt hits the floor instead, kicking up splinters. They wrestle over the gun, and another bolt sears the side of Poe's shin until he manages to heave the blaster away, sending it skidding across the floor, out of reach.

They fight furiously down a hallway leading toward the front of the house. It's tight quarters, hand-to-hand combat, and Poe is already trying not to limp. He gets his head slammed hard against the wall and staggers back. The other man is better—much better, and Poe's going to get his ass handed to him if he doesn't do something.

So he drops into a forward roll, once again catching the man by surprise; coming up on his knee, he grabs the small pistol he'd tucked into his boot and turns. There's no stun setting, yet Poe is not only fighting for his life, but Finn's. He pulls the trigger as the man is about to leap on him, blasting him down the hallway with a hole in his chest.

There's no time for regrets, and Poe can't even catch his breath. He stands, wincing as his head pounds and his leg burns, then runs to the front door and lobs another sonic grenade at the troopers outside. He's making a lot of noise, but he can't have troopers rushing in behind him. And they need a clear path for escape.

There are stairs to the second floor. Poe stops and listens, but if anyone is up there, they are not only quiet, they are not rushing down to investigate either. His gut tells him the second floor is not secure enough for a prisoner and that Finn is not up there. He searches for another door, something that looks like it leads to a basement, where they may not hear the commotion, or feel safer from the fighting upstairs.

The rest of the first floor is clear, and he finally finds the door in the kitchen where he started. Opening it gradually, he peers into a stairway that leads steeply downward. It's a tactical nightmare; he doesn't know that much about ground assaults, but it feels like flying blind into a dark tunnel. Anything could be down there.

He listens and hears a distant sound, like it's behind another door. Hoping they'd rather take him alive then dead, he descends slowly, blaster in one hand, a vibroknife in the other. He wishes he had a light of some sort, but it can't be helped, and it would certainly give him away.

He makes it to the bottom safely, and there is some light spilling through from under another door. He's in a large room at the base of the stairs, empty aside from the trappings of a normal basement: a few pieces of old furniture, the heating system, and a pile of old crates next to the the door.

Moving carefully and quietly, Poe listens once more, then pulls open the door. Two Stormtroopers turn in surprise. He takes out one with quick reflexes, but the other gets off a shot, hitting Poe in his left arm. Poe drops the knife, but shoots the trooper in the chest before he can fire again. For a moment, he doubles over with blinding pain, and Poe's not sure if it's the searing wound that almost brings his last meal back up, or the fact that he's now killed three men and stunned another six.

A part of him thinks he might pull this off; another part is screaming at him that he's a dead man. He pushes through, determined to get to Finn—and fast, before he loses the advantage of speed. He's shocked that he hasn't been caught already.

It's a short hallway, more of a tunnel and probably added in secret after the house was built. It's definitely an old smuggler's place, as it's perfect for hiding; Poe wouldn't be surprised if another tunnel leads out for quick escapes. He makes his way down the short corridor, still limping but with his weapon raised, senses on high alert despite the pain in his arm.

He finds Finn in the third room on the right, and his heart drops: hands cuffed in front of him, Finn is sitting in a chair with two First Order agents on either side, one with a pistol to his head. He looks groggy yet angry, probably because he's been roughed up: black eye, split lip, a long gash on his arm bleeding freely. His eyes widen when he looks up and sees Poe.

"Poe Dameron," says the agent who steps up beside him, placing the tip of a blaster at his temple. It's a woman, and he can see fire red hair from the corner of this eye. "Thank you for coming. You've made this all too easy."

"Didn't think you could handle anything much harder," Poe tosses back with a grin.

"Handle anything more than a traitorous Stormtrooper and a washed-up pilot?" she asks, and the agents flanking Finn grin as she laughs. "Oh, Commander Dameron. We can _handle_ you, rest assured." She prods him with the tip of her weapon.

"Really?" he says. He's watching Finn closely, hoping he's alert enough to know what to do when the time comes. Not that Poe is exactly sure what to do himself, when it's three against two, one of them is shot and the other is tied up. Still, he's got out of worse situations, sometimes just by talking. "It looks like you can't _handle_ much if one washed up pilot can get past eight stormtroopers."

"Well, they say your luck knows no bounds, Commander," she practically coos beside him. It sends shivers down his spine, and not the good kind. "But your luck has run out. We've got the traitor, we've got you, and now we've got the stolen data chip. Drop your weapon."

He drops his blaster. "No problem, but I don't have the chip," Poe says. "You think I'm going to walk in here to spring my buddy _with_ the chip on me? Wow, you really do think poorly of me."

"I'm not entirely sure I believe you," she says. "But I'll look forward to pulling the truth from you piece by piece. We have the perfect room for that sort of thing." She leans closer and murmurs in his ear. "I may not have Ren's powers, but I can still make you scream."

Poe tries not to let it get to him, but it does, because he can't let that happen to Finn. Finn's head falls forward with a moan, and the woman laughs with the others. He hopes they're distracted enough not to see his left hand moving. "He's so weak now," she says. "Traitor. Marx, you stay with him. Dante, bring the commander next door. I think I'll start with him instead."

She jerks her head at one of the agents, a tall, bruiser of a man, black hair slicked back and a sneer on his face. He starts toward Poe, who flings the other vibroknife at him as hard as he can with his injured left arm; it's a lot lower than he wanted, but at least he hits the man. Throwing out his right arm, Poe catches the red-haired agent in the face hard enough to push her against the wall. A blaster shot barely misses him, though he's not sure from where. He ducks as the woman recovers and pulls out his last weapon, taking out the agent with the knife sticking out of his leg. He aims at the one guarding Finn, but Finn's already got his arms around the man's neck. Pivoting fast, he turns to find a blaster in his face even as he raises his to the red-haired agent in charge.

"Stalemate," she murmurs as they slowly circle one another.

"I don't think so," Poe says. "Finn?"

"Drop it, or I snap his neck," Finn growls, his former captor now pulled tight against Finn's chest. Poe has no doubt that Finn could do it, but he's not sure if he would. And more than that, Poe doesn't want to put Finn in that position, of having to kill a man with his bare hands.

"You heard him," he tells her quietly, stepping forward. She does the same, and he is literally staring down the barrel of a blaster. His heart is pounding wildly and it's all he can do to keep his hands from shaking. He's scared, but pushes through it to focus on what's actually before him: not the barrel of a gun, but Finn's life and the future of the Resistance.

"Kill him," the woman snarls at Finn, her eyes never leaving Poe's face. "You're worth more than any one of us."

That throws Poe off, enough to glance at Finn, who gives him the smallest of nods. Poe turns back to the woman before him. "Wrong answer," he says, and he pulls the trigger.

The man with Finn struggles wildly, shouting obscenities at them. Poe steps up and places the gun under his jaw. "Shut up," he says. "Or I'll shoot you, too."

Finn shakes his head this time, and Poe lowers his gun. "Guess it's your lucky day," he says, and Finn chokes the man into unconsciousness, dropping him on the floor at his feet.

"Kriffing hell," Finn gasps, doubling over. "I don't know how you pulled this off, but thank you."

"Thank me later," Poe says, sprinting over to the agent with the knife in his leg and pulling it out with a horrible wet sound. He uses it to cut Finn's binders. "We need to get out of here fast."

"You've got the chip on you, don't you?" Finn asks. He scoops up both of his captor's weapons, while Poe grabs the woman's. He's not sure how long the sonic grenade will keep the troopers outside down, or when the ones he stunned upstairs might recover, for that matter; they're not free yet, and may still need to fight their way out.

"Of course I do, I didn't have time to hide it anywhere!" Poe helps Finn out of the room, both of them unsteady on their feet. He stops at the doorway and looks back at the unconscious man on the floor. He raises his blaster.

Finn lowers it.

"Leave him," he says, sounding weary. He can see the two dead stormtroopers at the end of the hallway. "It's over."

"Until he comes after us with a thirst for revenge," Poe tells him, thinking of another First Order agent and his run-ins over the years with Terex and his henchman. "Been there, done that."

"He'll probably be reconditioned anyway," Finn says. "Or executed. At least it's not on your hands." He starts down the corridor, but stumbles, and Poe has no choice but to leave the unconscious agent behind so he can help Finn.

"What did they get you with?" he asks.

"Temporary neuro-paralyzer," Finn says. "Standard shot, makes the subject unable to move but wears off quick enough to question them and let them feel pain."

Poe inhales sharply. "So they—"

"Not really," Finn says, shaking his head. "Didn't have time. Roughed me up in the speeder for fun, but they didn't get far once we arrived." He smiles gratefully at Poe. "You got here too fast."

"I stole a speeder bike," Poe admits. "I couldn't let them take you back." The stairs are too narrow to climb together, so he follows Finn, hoping he doesn't have to catch him as his arm hurts like hell, and his leg's not great either. Fortunately Finn still has his wits about him and moves cautiously, blaster in front of him as he steps into the kitchen. He sees the two troopers on the floor.

"Stunned 'em," Poe says, feeling the need to explain. The body count feels all wrong, like he's done something terrible, even if it was for good reason. "Same with the ones outside. We can take the speeder, get back quicker and strand 'em all."

As soon as they reach the front of the house however, a fifth agent steps around a corner, weapons raised: vibroknife in one hand, blaster in the other. Finn stops short, but Poe keeps walking. He shoots her in the chest and walks out the front door.

The troopers he hit with the grenade are still unconscious. Finn follows him to the speeder, silent. Poe starts it with a few twists of wire and burns down the dirt road without looking back. He glances at Finn, who is watching him with an undecipherable expression.

"I had to," Poe says, and Finn nods.

"I know."

"I lost my blaster," Poe tells him. "When I got the shit kicked out of me on the first floor. And then I got shot in the arm. So don't give me a lecture, because we're still alive, and that's more important."

Finn studies him until Poe is so uncomfortable he feels the tears sting his eyes and blinks them away: shame, not anger. And not shame for what he did in that house, but for what he did in his past, when he lived a different life. It's like coming back to Formos has brought it all back, when he's spent so long trying to forget.

"I get it," Finn says quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Am I—?" Poe exclaims incredulously. "Finn, you're the one they drugged and dragged off! Are you okay?"

"I'm not the one who just took out a dozen First Order troops by myself," Finn points out. "Which, by the way, is insane. Don't ever do that again. Why didn't you call for help?"

They are speeding through the streets back to the docking bay; Poe's nerves are still on fire, expecting someone to start chasing them at any minute. He takes a moment before he replies, thinking of how easy it was to become the man he used to be. He would do almost anything for the Resistance, and even more for Finn.

"I didn't have time," he finally says. "I had to get to you before it was too late."

Finn nods and touches Poe's uninjured arm. "Thank you," he says. "I'd probably be reconditioned if you hadn't come after me."

"I'm not letting them take you back," Poe says fiercely. "Ever. So…you're welcome," he finishes. He feels the adrenaline starting to wane, but he pushes past it. They have to get back to the ship and get off Formos before he can crash.

They make it to the docking bay and are hurrying toward their ship when it all goes to hell again: four more Stormtroopers and half a dozen local security come running toward them, shouting. They sprint into the ship, pull up the ramp, and run for the cockpit. Poe flips switches like a madman as Finn buckles in; a shot from a plasma cannon hits the side of the ship.

"Shit!" Poe shouts. "I need thirty more seconds."

Finn primes the forward guns; another shot hits them, shaking the ship. Anything bigger—or anything that hits them in the right place—is going to bring them down, and they'll be done for.

Twenty seconds, and there's another shot from the ground. Finn fires back and takes out half the bay, sending bodies and debris flying. Poe flips the last switch and gets them off the ground and into the air. As soon as they're clear, he punches the sub-light engines to take them into space and starts the hyperspace calculations.

"Kriff, we're in for it," Finn murmurs. "We just shot up a spacesport."

"We damaged one docking bay," Poe tells him. "And it's on Formos." Yet they also killed a number of First Order officers, and while Formos might look the other way, the First Order won't, not for long. He finishes the calculations, checks the scopes: shockingly enough, there's no ships in the air quick enough to come after them. They've made it out. He flips the last switch, and the freighter shoots into hyperspace.

They're free of the First Order, but Poe knows from experience they're not free of the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected consequences early next week, plus a bonus epilogue because the end did not go as planned! Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

The first consequence comes quickly: Poe feels lightheaded and dizzy as the adrenaline crash hits hard. He's not usually one to pass out after an intense battle, and he's not going to start now, so he closes his eyes and breathes deep to settle the vertigo and nausea. Only concentrating on his body reminds him he's injured; the pain in his arm flares, and his leg, and his—

"Poe?" Finn is standing beside him, hand resting gently on his shoulder. "You still with me?"

Poe sits up straighter, tries not to grimace when the burn on his leg rubs against the chair. "Yeah, I'm with you. I'm good."

"You don't look so good," Finn tells him.

"Neither do you, pal, " Poe points out, and Finn rolls his eyes.

"I told you, they barely had a chance to get started before you showed up, and I think the drug has worn off completely. So how about I help you to the back and patch you up?"

"I'm fine," Poe tells him. The last thing he needs is Finn cleaning his injuries, touching him. Not now, when he still feels raw. "We should get back to base so we can turn over this intel."

Finn nods, glances at the panels before him. "Coordinates are set, right?" Poe nods. "So the ship should fly itself for a few minutes. Come on, we're cleaning up." He holds out his hand, and from the look on his face, he's not going to take no for an answer. Poe sighs and stands. His leg hurts, his arm hurts, and his head hurts. He can't wait to get back to Ajan Kloss, pass on the intel, and fall into bed.

Finn wiggles his fingers, so Poe takes his hand, enjoying the comforting feel of it as he follows Finn to the back. He grabs a medpac and insists on cleaning up Finn's arm and face first. "How'd you get the cut?" he asks, pointing to a nearby table and chair. Finn reluctantly sits down.

"Knife at the cantina, I think," Finn tells him. "I felt the dart and fought back until I couldn't move anymore."

"You started a classic bar brawl," Poe tells him. "I got your pips and hurried upstairs as fast as I could, but you were gone, and the place was in chaos."

"So the handoff went smoothly?"

"It was fine," Poe replies. He cleans the shallow cut on Finn's arm and wraps it. "Nasty place, you would have hated it. But we go where we have to go."

"And someday we'll go someplace nice," Finn says. Poe pauses, nods. The idea of going somewhere nice with Finn is appealing, especially after Formos. Yet it also leaves him sad, knowing it wouldn't mean the same thing to Finn, especially if he ever found out about Poe's past. Finn stands and literally pushes Poe down into the chair. "So how did you find me? And how did you get all these trophies?"

Poe snorts at the question. "I paid—and maybe threatened—the Rodian behind the bar. Took a punch in the fight. Stole a bike, like I said. Scouted the house and busted my way in with some concussion grenades. Got the scratch on my leg—" This time Finn snorts, because while it wasn't a direct hit, it's still an ugly burn that stings like mad—"fighting one of those agents upstairs—he got my head, too—then got shot by a trooper downstairs, and yeah—that's about it." He laughs. "So not that bad."

Finn starts cleaning his arm; the wound is deeper than the one on his leg, and his arm is stiff and sore. He definitely needs some bacta. "Bad enough. You need anything for the pain?"

"Not until we get back," Poe tells him. He can barely keep his eyes open as Finn tends his wounds; pain meds would probably knock him out.

"Take a nap, Poe," Finn says quietly. "I'll wake you when we're ready to land."

Poe watches him turn away and reaches out for his hand. "I'm sorry they got to you," he says. "And that I couldn't get there sooner."

Finn squeezes tight. "I'm fine, Poe. Stop apologizing for saving my life."

"And I'm sorry I had to hurt all those people," Poe murmurs, letting his head fall. It's been months since he's felt so much doubt, and he hates it. Even though he knows everything he did from the moment they landed was necessary, he feels like he should have done something different. That the man he is today could have done something better than reverting to the man he'd once been. "I had no choice. I couldn't let them take you." And that's the irony: the man he is today would still do anything to save Finn, no matter the cost, even to his own soul.

"I know you didn't," Finn tells him. "It's all right. Get some rest, Poe. You need it."

Poe nods, his throat too tight to speak. Finn walks back up front and Poe is alone, so he lays his head down on the table in front of him. And if a few tears wet his arm before he drifts off, that's okay. It was a long day, and letting Finn take care of him might have been the hardest part.

The second consequence is almost as bad as the first: Snap meets them when they land, and he looks worried.

"What happened?" Poe asks immediately, and Snap's eyebrows about fly off his face.

" _You_ happened," he replies. "Haven't you ever heard the only thing that travels faster through hyperspace than a starfighter is bad news?"

Finn looks confused, and Poe exchanges a wary look with him. "You don't mean Formos, do you? We just left!"

"And yet the big story across the holonet is that the Resistance shot up a spaceport after stealing a speeder bike, attacking a civilian house, and killing several unarmed inhabitants."

"What?" Finn exclaims, while Poe can only sputter incoherently. He sticks a defensive finger in Snap's face.

"I attacked the house to get Finn back after the First Order kidnapped him, every one of them was armed, and we shot up the spaceport because they shot at us first!"

Snap holds up his hands. "And judging by the way you two look, you took some hits yourself. Come on, the general is waiting to see you before she starts talking your way out of it with the New Republic."

"I can talk my own way out of it," Poe snaps, and feels Finn's hand on his arm, steadying his anger and grounding him. A part of him wishes Finn would stop touching him so much because he's very tired and it's very distracting.

"It's okay," Finn murmurs. "We'll figure it out."

"Leia's not happy," Snap warns them as they head toward the _Tantive IV._ "You've seen it before, Poe—she's not mad at you, but she's going to take it out on you. Just so you know."

"Yeah, this is not my first time through the Maw," Poe mutters, earning a sharp laugh from Snap. They arrive at the ship and find Leia in one of the conference rooms, pacing back and forth.

"Commander Dameron," she says, standing rigidly still. "Captain Finn."

"General," they both murmur. Poe is smart enough to know he should remain quiet—for now.

"Wexley, you can go," she tells the other pilot. "We don't need an audience."

Snap seems unsure, but nods anyway. "I'll be outside if anyone needs me." He looks straight at Poe when he says it, and Poe nods gratefully before turning back to Leia with his game face.

"So," she starts. "You've created an intergalactic incident." There is a deadly pause. "Again."

Poe holds back a wince; his track record isn't _that_ bad, is it?

"What, you're not going to argue with me before I can even start?" she asks, and Poe shakes his head. It hurts; he must have got hit harder than he thought. "Fine, then I'll start. The official complaint is that two well-known members of the Resistance stole a speeder bike, attacked a house full of civilians, killed a dozen men, then shot their way out of the docking bay before escaping into hyperspace." She glares at each of them in turn. "So, how much of it is true?"

Poe can feel Finn's gaze on him, sees the other man open his mouth to answer, and holds up his hand to stop Finn. Poe is the ranking officer, he should be the one to deliver the report and take the hits. Leia raises her eyebrows; Poe hates that look and offers his own right back.

"It's all true," he tells her. "Except for the part about a dozen men. It was half a dozen, and none of them were civilians."

"Oh, you only killed a half dozen First Order officers? Well, I'm sure the New Republic will be thrilled when I tell them that."

"The others were only stunned," Poe says.

"Well, there were also the troopers I blew up at the docking bay," Finn offers, and Poe cringes as Leia throws her hands up in the air.

"You two are a walking disaster, do you know that?"

"We got the intel," Poe tells her. He pulls out the data chip from Cor Raife and slaps in on the table with too much force. "But the First Order was there for it, too. They got Finn at the cantina where we met Raife. So I went after him."

"And you left behind a trail of blood and destruction, apparently."

"Not the first time, and I'd do it again," Poe tells her. "They were holding him in a house on the edge of town, so I took a bike and went after him. And I got him out, instead of watching them take him back to the First Order and turn one of our best men into a trooper again! We would have had a clean escape if they hadn't started shooting at our ship."

Leia narrows her eyes at him. "So you're saying they attacked you and kidnapped your partner, when all you were doing was meeting an old friend?"

"Well, I don't know if I'd consider Cor Raife an old friend—" Poe stops at the look she gives him. "Yes, that's what happened. They kidnapped Finn, roughed him up. I found him in a basement, drugged and bleeding. We left as fast as we could and were about to take off when they fired a plasma cannon at us."

"I see." She looks back and forth between them before allowing her shoulders to slump. She suddenly looks less angry and more exhausted than ever. "And are you all right?"

"We're fine," Poe says, confused at the sudden concern, but Finn interrupts.

"Poe was shot," he says. "Permission to take him to Kalonia?"

"Do I need to make it an order?" she asks, but she's talking to Finn, not Poe.

"Knowing him, what do you think?" And for the first time, Leia smiles.

"I do know Poe, and you must know him pretty well now, too. Permission granted, Captain. But before you go—is there anything else I need to know before I start putting out this fire? Formos has lodged a formal complaint against you."

Poe bristles at being talked about and ordered around. It's probably why he runs his mouth off. "Other than Formos is a shithole and I told you this was a bad idea? I don't think so, General." He hears Finn sigh, watches Leia's brows pinch together as she turns toward the other man, and knows he said too much. But he's tired and hurting and his filter is almost gone.

"Finn, could you let Snap know I'm not going to do anything to Poe? I'd like to talk to him alone."

Finn glances at Poe for confirmation, and he nods, bracing himself for whatever is coming. Hopefully not a slap in the face. He'd like to think he earned his way back into her good graces months ago, and that speaking his mind, even in frustration, won't earn him a demotion.

Leia is quiet until the door shuts, studying him silently for a long moment. He meets her eye, almost daring her to say whatever damning thing it is she wants to say. She may understand that the First Order propaganda machine is responsible for the story on the holonet and the formal complaint against them, but Poe did do all those things. He hopes she doesn't want to talk about it.

"Poe," she finally starts, "I'm sorry."

"What?" he asks in surprise. "I'm the one who screwed up, what are you apologizing for?"

She folds her arms over her chest and lifts an eyebrow. "Several things. I was angry when you came in, and I'm sorry. I knew perfectly well there had to be a reason for whatever happened out there, and that a lot of it wouldn't be your fault, but I still snapped at you."

"Easy to do," Poe tells her. "But they took Finn, and I had to get him back."

She nods. "I know that now. Poe, sit down with me."

He reluctantly joins her at the table, sitting stiffly in a chair next to her. He's not sure if he's about to get a lecture, a reprieve, or worse. Leia Organa is still so unpredictable, even through all the years he's fought for her. Naturally, she can read his mind and rolls her eyes.

"I'm not going to yell anymore, Poe. You didn't mess up, you did good." She picks up the data chip. "You got us valuable information for the Resistance, and you saved your friend. And you did it in a situation you didn't want to be in, but that I put you in anyway. I'll take care of the complaint with the New Republic. But can I ask you something?"

He nods, still silent.

"Are you okay?" she asks again, then leans back. "And what's going on with Finn?"

"I'm fine," he tells her.

"You got shot." The corners of her lips quirk up. "And you look like you went six rounds with a gundark."

"I wouldn't say no to some bacta and a nice long nap," Poe admits.

"It's yours. And Finn?"

"They shot him with a tranq dart," he tells her. "Dragged him off, kicked him around, though fortunately they didn't—"

She shakes her head, holding up a hand. "Not what I meant, Poe. What's going on with _you_ and Finn?" She leans forward. "And more importantly, when are you going to tell him?"

He recoils, eyes wide. "There's nothing going on with Finn, which it why there's nothing to say."

"Poe," she sighs. "You risked an awful lot to storm a First Order safehouse and get him back. A dozen men? That's not nothing."

"We don't leave anyone behind," he says sharply. "I did what I had to do, what anyone would do." He throws it back at her. "I've heard the stories of how you sprung Han from Jabba the Hutt, you know."

"And then I married him, you know." she replies dryly, and didn't Poe walk right into that one.

"Look," he says. "I like Finn…a lot. I admit it. But this is what matters now, what we're doing here, what we're fighting for—"

"And _who_ we're fighting for," she says. "Never forget who, Poe, and don't let your chance to tell him slip away before it's too late."

He nods to show he understands, but doesn't reply because his throat is too tight. He wants to tell Finn, but at the same time, he knows he probably never will. It's too much of a risk. She leans forward and pats his knee.

"You should take some time, maybe go home, Poe," she says, and his mouth drops open. She's sending him away. "Go home and see your father for a day or two, figure things out."

"You're…what? Grounding me?" he asks, his voice sputtering high. "I don't need a vacation!"

"You're not grounded, I need you to lead the mission to Fondor now that we have that intel," she says. "We need ships, which means we need you and Black One to help us get them. But when it's over, take a few days. You can have the _Falcon_ ," she starts, but Poe interrupts her with a snort.

"Rey hates it when I fly the _Falcon_."

"She'll get over it," she says, standing and pocketing the data chip. "You can pick up some supplies, we'll call it a working vacation. And take Finn. Maybe your dad can talk some sense into the both of you."

Poe talks a deep breath as he stands with her. "Look, I appreciate your concern or interest or whatever it is, but I don't think—"

"I know you don't," she says, patting his good arm. "I'm pushing you hard, Poe. So take three days. We'll still be here when you get back. Now, go to medical and get cleaned up. I'm going to take this to the others and start planning. We need to hit Fondor as soon as we can now that we have the information we need. And it's thanks to you, Poe. Never forget that."

She leaves without another word, leaving Poe standing there filled with all kinds of emotions: frustration, shame, fear, relief, and more. As soon as she leaves, he sits back down and lets the crash begin, leaning forward with his elbows to his knees. She's sending him away. Not immediately, but she still thinks he needs some time off. It's not the first time she's said it—he even took her up on it after Crait—but it is the first time she's pushed it so hard.

After a minute or two, Finn comes in. Poe looks up in surprise, and the other man stops, glancing back over his shoulder uncertainly. "Snap went with the general. She told me I should drag you to medical kicking and screaming if I needed to."

"You don't need to drag me," Poe says, leaning back with a sigh and running his hands over his face. "I'll go. When I'm ready." When he opens his eyes again, Finn is sitting across from him, leaning forward.

"You okay?" he asks. "Did she lay into you? Because I was the one stupid enough to get caught—"

"You were not stupid to get caught," Poe says sharply. "And you can stop asking me if I'm okay. I'm fine."

"I still don't believe you," Finn tells him.

"She didn't lay into me," Poe admits. "She didn't yell, didn't tell me I messed up, nothing. She told me to go home."

Finn's face falls. "Home? As in, you're done here, go home for good?"

"No, not like that." Poe shakes his head. "I don't even know where it came from. And we need to hit Fondor first, get those ships, so it's not like she's kicking me out tomorrow."

"Snap said the reports from Formos are pretty bad. Maybe she wants you to lie low for a while."

"She hasn't before," Poe protests. "It's not like we haven't had bad publicity over other missions gone wrong."

"People are more scared now," Finn tells him. "The First Order has been gaining power for months. There aren't many planets willing to look the other way anymore."

Poe shook his head. "But everyone knows Formos is a smuggler's haven! Shit happens there every day that doesn't make the news, why this?"

"Maybe because it's us," Finn says with a shrug. "They saw an opportunity to make the Resistance look bad and they ran with it."

"You mean, _I_ gave them the perfect opportunity to make the Resistance look bad," Poe replies. "I hate that they have control over the story."

"Then maybe instead of lying low, we need to tell our version of it," Finn offers. "Put the truth out there to cancel out their lies."

"We've been shouting in the dark for months," Poe sighs. "And Leia will handle it. She's the one the New Republic will listen to. The one the galaxy should listen to."

Finn looks at him funny. "What?" Poe asks. "I'm serious."

"I know you are," Finn says. "Because you're shorting yourself again. The New Republic will listen to _you_ , too. Just like we do. You're her second, the best pilot in the Resistance, one of the First Order's most wanted. It's why they're so scared of you, why they put out stories like this. To make other people scared of us, when they're the ones who are really threatened."

"I don't really feel like any of that right now, buddy," Poe tells him.

"Well, it's still true, whether you believe it or not," Finn tells him. "You saved my life. That's what Leia needs to put out there, that you stormed a building with a dozen First Order troops and got me out alive." Poe doesn't say anything, and Finn frowns. "So…are you going to do it? Go home?"

Poe sits up straighter. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe she just wants me out of her hair for a few days—well, both of us. I'm supposed to bring you with me." He can hear the apology in his voice, but Finn grins broadly.

"Seriously? I get to see where you're from? The old rebel base at Yavin IV?"

"Yeah, I guess so. You can meet my dad." And the panic hits, that Finn might actually go home with him. That Kes Dameron will certainly see what Leia's picked up on and give Poe an earful about it. That it's going to be him and Finn, alone but not on a mission, doing whatever people do when they're not fighting. Poe hasn't had more than a day or two to recover around the base in years. What's he going to do on Yavin IV? With Finn?

Finn must pick up on Poe's nerves. He raises an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asks. "You don't want me to meet your dad? Because I'd really like to hear some stories about you, maybe thank him for having you so you could save my life so many times."

Poe shakes his head. "No, it's not that. I did say I'd take you somewhere nice someday, remember? And Yavin is amazing. I didn't think it would be so soon, though, or literally so close to home. It's…it's fine. It's good." It's nerve-wracking already.

"I'm glad," Finn says, and his smile is soft now. "It'll be nice to do something that doesn't involve running or fighting. Together."

"Together." Poe swallows thickly. Leia really set him up, didn't she? "Finn, I—" He stops, shakes his head, can't say it. "Never mind. We still gotta get those ships at Fondor. We'll have plenty of time to talk after that." Poe's pretty sure he won't say a word, but then again, his dad might force his hand, just like Leia.

"Good," says Finn, standing and holding out his hand for Poe. "Because there's something I want to talk to you about, too."

"Oh really?" Poe playfully pushes Finn's hand away even though he wants to take hold of it and never let go. "What's on your mind?"

"What's on yours?" Finn tosses back.

"Right now?" Poe says, deflecting easily and trying not to imagine what Leia would say, and definitely not wondering what Finn wants to talk about. "Right now, I could use some bacta and my bed. And maybe something to eat."

Finn puts a careful arm on his shoulder and squeezes. "Kalonia first, food second, and then we crash."

"And then we can do it all over again tomorrow!" Poe laughs, and Finn joins him.

"It will be _really_ good to get away once we've got those ships," Finn says, and he seems so sincere, so excited, that maybe Poe can do this after all. They'll go to Fondor, and he'll take Finn to Yavin IV. It's been a long time since he's seen his dad, and maybe spending time with Finn will finally push Poe to say something.

"I'm looking forward to it," Poe tells him as they head to the medical bay. He is glad, but he's also terrified. Sometimes war is easier than peace, at least when it comes to crossing the line.

* * *

Poe wakes up the next morning feeling only slightly less tired and sore, but he's ready: to hit Fondor for the Resistance, to see his dad on Yavin IV, to talk to Finn about his feelings.

And then the Emperor's message goes out across the galaxy, and everything falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This went through three different versions, two of which required an epilogue, so look for the epilogue in a few days. Thank you for reading!


	4. Epilogue

Epilogue 

Poe walks into his room and drops his bag on the bed only to find another large bag there, packed with his clothes and other belongings. He looks down at BB-8. "You know what this is for?" The droid whistles an innocent answer at him, pointing out that it's clearly a travel bag, so Poe must be going somewhere.

"No, I'm not," Poe says. "I just got back from somewhere. I kind of want to stay in one place for more than a few days."

The droid beeps uncertainly, wondering if maybe Poe should stay in one place but go somewhere else to do it. He's definitely up to something, only Poe is too tired to figure it out. He drops both bags on the floor and falls onto the bed. BB-8 rolls up next to him, cooing in concern.

"I'm fine, buddy," Poe tells him. "Tired. Nothing new there." He yawns and closes his eyes; he is supposed to get something to eat with Finn and Rey, but he's more tired than hungry and figures his stomach won't mind if it has to wait for dinner, or maybe even breakfast. He should probably change, and manages to kick off his shoes, but that's it. He's done.

It's been almost three months since Exegol. Weeks and weeks of continuous, never-ending work, of constantly setting each new crisis aside to deal with the next one, never really getting over the last. Leia had once promised him a chance to go home, to see his dad and talk to Finn, and yet he hasn't stopped moving since he woke up the next day. Any thoughts of spending time with Finn on Yavin IV had been instantly forgotten in the wake of the Emperor's return.

His feelings haven't changed at all, have even grown over the long weeks since the battle. He thinks about what Leia said every day— _don't let your chance to tell him slip away_ —but there's never a good time. There's too much to do, even with the war won. Deep down Poe suspects he's more scared than anything—he hardly knows what to do with himself most days now that he's not fighting. He can't imagine what living a normal life would look like, let alone a normal life with Finn. It's a line he can't seem to cross.

And Poe has no idea how Finn feels, or what he wants to do now that he no longer has to fight the First Order. He's Force-sensitive—and wasn't that a brilliant surprise and yet no surprise at all. Finn has the power and ability to be a Jedi, an amazing Jedi, and he's also a general of the Resistance now. Yet he's also free of war for the first time in his life: he can do anything he wants—study, lead, explore. Poe hopes he'll stay, but is terrified he won't.

Yet again, Poe tries to imagine bringing it up—and the scene freezes, his words fail. For someone who has always been able to come up with a plan and talk his way out of almost anything, this is something Poe has no idea how to deal with. There's too much at stake, so it's easier to ignore it and keep working, keep wanting.

He must drift off because he's jerked awake by a knock on his door. BB-8 opens the door to let Finn in before Poe even has a chance to run a hand through his hair.

"Thanks, BB," Finn says, then glances up and sees Poe sitting on his bed, holding back a yawn. He looks back down at the droid. "You could have told me he was asleep!"

BB-8 beeps the equivalent of a shrug.

"It's fine," Poe says. "I know I was supposed to meet you guys for dinner, but I…" He trails off and falls back down to the bed. "I'm kriffing tired."

Finn walks over and sits at the foot of the bed. "I know. That's why I packed your bag for you."

Poe gives him a crooked smile. "Trying to get me out of your hair?"

"Of course not," Finn says. "I've got my own bag ready to go, too."

"Wait, what?" Poe sits up, suddenly much more awake. "Did something happen? Was someone attacked? What—"

"Nothing happened," Finn says with a fond smile. "We won, remember? And we haven't sat down since. Figured we were due."

"Due what?" Poe asks.

"To sit down, take a break," Finn tells him. "Leia tried to give you one a few months ago, remember? Maybe it's time we make good on it."

Poe groans. "Finn, buddy, I'd love to, but I just got back from Chandrila and there's so much to do—"

"Actually, there's not," Finn says. "It's all taken care of. Rose and D'Acy are in charge for a few days, and—as long as you don't argue—we're taking the _Falcon_ to Yavin IV."

"What?" Poe asks again, feeling ridiculously inarticulate. "Finn, we can't pick up and leave—and Rey hates it when I fly the _Falcon_!"

"Then don't set it on fire," Finn says, but he's smiling. Poe shakes his head.

"Even if she does let us take the _Falcon_ , we can't go to Yavin IV."

"Why not?" Finn asks. "It's your home, and you should see your family. How many times have you talked to your dad since we won?"

Poe has to think about it and hates the answer. "Twice," he says. "Finn, there's too much going on right now. We can't leave—"

"Poe." Finn turns toward him, his face very serious. "You remember when you said we'd have plenty of time to talk, when we were planning on going to Yavin after Fondor?"

"We never even made it to Fondor," Poe says. "The Emperor's message went out the next day."

"Exactly, and we never had a chance to talk, or to go somewhere nice like Yavin IV."

Poe tries a disarming grin. "Hey, we've been to a few decent planets since the war ended."

"For meetings and treaties," Finn retorts, not falling for it. "With dozens of people. Not someplace we could get away from it all."

Poe sighs, leans forward. "I don't know what to tell you, Finn. It's the life we live."

"And I like this life, I wouldn't trade it for anything," Finn tells him. "But you need a break. _I_ need a break. We need to talk."

Poe sits up and nods, shakes his shoulders out and readies himself for whatever comes up. "So let's talk. I'm awake, I'm listening, and I'm—"

Finn leans forward and kisses him, unexpected but quick and hard. Poe's brain almost short circuits as Finn sits back and watches him warily.

"That…" Poe starts. "That wasn't talking. That was definitely not talking."

"And that's what I want to talk about," Finn says, his tone strongly hinting that Poe should understand. He doesn't.

"You want to talk about not talking?" Poe asks. Finn kissed him. Finn wanted to talk but he had leaned forward and kissed Poe instead.

Finn mutters under his breath. "Kriff, you can be dense." He places one hand along Poe's jaw and kisses him again, and it's like time has stopped and Poe can't breathe, and his heart is pounding so hard and so fast he's sure it will pound right out of his chest. It is nothing like he ever imagined and better than he ever dreamed.

"So you want to talk about kissing?" Poe murmurs when Finn pulls away.

"Maybe," Finn replies. "What did you want to talk about?"

"This," Poe confesses. "You, Me. Kissing." There go his words, like he feared.

"You never said anything," Finn says, and Poe raises an eyebrow.

"Neither did you."

"I just did."

"You kissed me. You didn't say a word."

Finn gives him _that_ look, the impatiently fond one Poe loves to tease out of him. "I let my actions speak for me. Because I have no idea what to say." He kisses Poe once more, and this time it lasts even longer, with gentle caresses and soft noises and Poe could do this all night, forget going to Yavin IV and talking.

When they finally stop, Poe reaches out and runs his hand across Finn's jaw, down his neck and shoulder and along his chest until it comes to rest on Finn's waist. He pulls the other man closer.

"I can't believe you're going to make me talk first," he murmurs. "Because I don't know what to say either. This, right now, is something I've thought about for ages, something I wanted but didn't think was possible. You're one of my best friends, Finn, and I want to be more, but I also don't want to lose what I already have."

"Wow," Finn says after a moment. "That was pretty good for not knowing what to say. I've thought about it, too, but I always put it aside. I wanted to win the war first." Poe nods in understanding, tongue tied back up in knots to know Finn feels similar, if not the same.

"But the war is over now, there's no more excuses," Finn continues. He takes Poe's hand and squeezes it tight. "So let's not make any more excuses."

"We'll just run off to Yavin instead?" Poe teases. Finn groans and leans back, but Poe pulls him forward into another dizzying kiss. It would be much better if they were horizontal, but Poe senses they're not done talking quite yet. He takes a moment to look into Finn's eyes, can almost feel the other man's nerves, tempered with determination, but also his exhaustion. Yes, Finn needs a break, too.

"You're right," he says quietly, turning Finn's hand over and idly tracing shapes on the other man's palm. He's held hands with Finn many times before, and yet it feels so different now, Poe never wants to let go. "No more excuses. We do need a break. _You_ need a break. I threw this general thing at you and you never once complained. You've been tireless, never complaining, never stopping, even now that you're learning about the Force. You're amazing, you know that, right?"

Finn's crooked grin almost, but not quite, hides his embarrassment. "You're not so bad yourself, General."

Poe shakes his head. "We're not talking about me, for once. You want to go to Yavin, I'll take you to Yavin. Because I would do _anything_ for you, Finn. Anything."

Finn nods, looks away before meeting Poe's eyes again. "You know I feel the same, right?"

"I do now," Poe tells him, and leans forward to kiss him again. He could do this for hours, and is about to topple them over onto the bed when Finn stops and stands, holding out his hand.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Poe groans and falls backward. The last thing he wants to do is fly, even the _Millennium Falcon._ "I _just_ got back! Can I at least have a few hours? I want to check in with the others, I should call my dad and let him know we're coming, and maybe…" He pats the bed next to him. "Maybe a quick nap? Together?" He'd like nothing more than to simply lay next to Finn, feeling the other man's warmth next to him.

"If I lay down, we're definitely not napping," Finn says, but he's grinning.

"Even better," Poe tells him. "We're going to Yavin, I promise. But let's enjoy this…this moment…before we run off again."

Finn studies him, then slowly kicks off his boots. He takes off his vest and tosses it on a chair. Poe halfway hopes he keeps going, but he doesn't; he joins Poe, still dressed, propped up on his elbow as he places his hand on Poe's chest and leans down for a quick kiss.

"A few hours sounds good," he says. "And then it's just you and me and the _Falcon_."

"You and me and the _Falcon_ ," Poe repeats. "I don't know if that's a threat or a promise."

"Maybe both," Finn replies with a crooked grin. "Though I'm not sure which you'd like more from the look on your face."

Poe laughs and grabs Finn by the waist, moving closer so they are flush together. "I like both," he murmurs. "And I can't wait."

"For what?" Finn asks, inhaling sharply as Poe starts pressing kisses to his neck and jaw.

"To be with you," Poe tells him. "To tell everyone. To introduce you to my dad. Everything."

"Everything," Finn murmurs back. "I'm looking forward to everything, too, then."

They've crossed the line, from friendship to something more, something much deeper and much stronger. Something Poe has dreamt about for a long time, something he's wanted for even longer. He's not sure where it will take them, although they are starting with Yavin IV, apparently. After that, the galaxy is theirs: to live and lead and love, in peace, and finally together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! I do hope that makes up for the abrupt and unexpected ending of the previous chapter. Let a girl know? Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's been a while since I've written more than a drabble, and this is completely self-indulgent. Just so you know. Poe is my favorite character and I will love him to the end. Thank you for reading, I will post the second part of three this weekend!


End file.
